скачать книгу бесплатно
“They’re rough little cooters, though,” Esther said.
Ashby’s stomach felt sort of sick, but she knew she had to speak up. “Can I ask all of you something?”
“Shoot,” Lacy said, fists on her hips.
This would be embarrassing, but she needed to know the truth. “Dan said that I couldn’t get a date because the cowboys think I’m…well, knotted up was the phrase he used.”
It was as if someone hit the mute button. Everyone in the room instantly clammed up and wouldn’t look her in the eye. That was her clue—they knew something about this.
“Well,” Lacy hedged. “We had heard something to that effect.”
“This is horrible.” Ashby wrung her hands. “And you didn’t say anything. All this time—”
“No, now don’t get all upset,” Lacy said, crossing the room to place a comforting hand on her arm. “They just don’t know you, Ashby. They don’t know the caring and wonderful person you are, because all they can see is the perfect package that God put you in.”
A chorus of agreement rang out around the room.
“I hate it when someone tells me how perfect I am,” Ashby groaned. “I’m horrible at physical things. I’m like a gangly giraffe.” And that was only appearancewise.
“Now, that is not true,” Adela said, finally speaking up. “When you arrived here last year for the first spring festival, I seem to recall that you and the sheriff won the three-legged race.”
“Only because Sheriff Brady was strong enough to haul me across the finish line. It had nothing at all to do with me.”
“It’s okay. Don’t sweat it,” Sheri said. “There is a guy out there for you, and when it’s time for the two of you to meet, you will.”
“Yes, but then it might be too late.”
“Too late for what?” Adela asked.
“For me to have a baby.”
Lacy cocked her head to the side. “Ashby, for goodness’ sake, you’re not even thirty.”
“You’re just a babe in the woods,” Norma Sue said.
“Ha. At the pace I’m going…”
Lacy grinned. “Relax, girl. If there is one thing that history has taught us, it’s that it is never, never too late. If God let Sarah have a baby at almost a hundred, you have to believe that if you are to have a baby, it will happen.”
Ashby sighed again. “But will I be a hundred?”
“Ashby, listen to me,” Sheri said. There wasn’t a twinkle anywhere to be seen in her eyes as she leveled them on Ashby. “You may have to take the bull by the horns in order to make your dreams come true.”
“That’s right.” Esther Mae shook her handful of pea pods for emphasis. “Empower yourself.”
Ashby expelled an exasperated breath. “I thought I did. I moved all the way out here to Mule Hollow, but nothing has changed. The only man who has asked me out is a shallow playboy, whom all of you for some reason think is a good match for me.”
“First of all,” Sheri said, “I do think you have Dan all wrong. And second, you changed your zip code. You didn’t change yourself.”
Leave it to Sheri to be frank. Ashby felt the sting of her words all the way to her toes. “So you think I am stuck-up. You think they’re right about me?”
“No.” Lacy jumped in. “That’s not what Sheri’s saying.”
“It certainly isn’t. I think you are afraid. Believe me, I’ve been there. I think you are afraid of looking silly.”
“He said that, too.”
“Who, Dan?” Lacy asked.
Ashby nodded, feeling like a loser.
“Is it true?” Sheri asked.
“In a way. I was brought up in a setting where looking silly was the cardinal sin. I’m not sure I can do it. Really, that first day here, I thought I could, so when Brady grabbed me to be in the three-legged race with him, I did it. But when it was over I just couldn’t stop thinking about how foolish I’d looked. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but I can’t seem to get her voice out of my head.” Now they probably all thought she was an awful person. Her relationship with her mother was complicated, but she did love her….
No-nonsense Sheri shook her head. “There comes a time when you make your own way in the world, Ashby. Totally and completely separate from your past. Even your mother. It’s the only way to truly know who you are. What I found out as an adult is that my life is between me and the Lord.”
Echoes of agreement rang out across the room.
“You would have had a blast riding those handlebars,” Sherri continued. “And you could have a blast chasing a pig, too. Don’t relegate yourself to the corner just because you don’t have the best hand-eye coordination or because you think acting or looking silly is wrong. You have to laugh at yourself, take chances. Boy, did I ever learn that.” She frowned. “Not that I meant to preach to you or anything. It just hit a nerve.”
“Sheri’s right,” Lacy said. “If these cowboys see you out there laughing at yourself, they’re going to start seeing the Ashby we know. The one who would make a great wife and mother…and who’s one brilliant businesswoman.”
“That’s right,” Norma Sue called out. Esther Mae and Adela were nodding and smiling in vigorous agreement.
Ashby fought back the lump that had lodged in her throat. “I wish it were that simple.” She thought about the bike. She’d always wanted to ride a bicycle. What about scrambling for a pig? Could she? Dan Dawson would say no. “So you really think me getting into that arena and trying to catch that pig might help me get a husband?”
Sheri and Lacy nodded like bobble heads.
Ashby inhaled sharply. “Okay.” She had to do this. Even though her mother would be appalled at the idea…. Ashby had lived with the fear of a reporter saying the wrong thing about her in the Nob Hill or Pacific Heights society pages. Laughable, since her parents hadn’t ever been considered elite enough to be newsworthy themselves. This was, however, Ashby had realized, one reason her mother was so preoccupied with fitting in with the upper crust. She lived, breathed and dreamed of the days when she or Ashby would be mentioned on the right pages of the right papers. This was why Ashby had let herself be pushed into dating first Brad and then Carlton. Both were highly newsworthy—and both had passed her over for more compatible matches for their blue money within the space of six months. Her mother had not been happy with Ashby on either count. To her way of thinking, Ashby had “lost” them deliberately.
Ashby hadn’t dated again until after she’d moved away from home in San Francisco and opened her store in San Moreno, where she’d met Steven. Brad’s and Carlton’s rejection had devastated her mom. Steven’s rejection had devastated Ashby. It was time to make a change.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she let the idea sink in.
She took courage from everyone’s smiles. “I’m probably going to be the laughingstock of Mule Hollow. But I’m in. I’m going to show certain people that I can loosen up.” She gulped a very unladylike gulp.
She—Ashby Renee Templeton, who had never even played in a sandbox, much less in dirt—had a date with a pig!
Imagine that.
Chapter Three
The rodeo had been a good one, but it was about to get better. Leaning against the steel bars of the arena, Dan watched the group of laughing women prepare to do battle with the squealing pig in the pen behind him.
When he’d first learned that Ashby was going to participate, he figured it might be another train wreck. She’d been heavy on his mind in the month since they’d walked or limped the bike into town. Ashby had not been able to hide the pain of her blisters by the end of the disastrous ordeal. The cantankerous woman had refused all his attempts to help, and he’d finally stopped trying. Fortunately, by the time they’d made it into town, almost everyone was off participating in other festivities, sparing them some of the hoopla associated with coming in dead last.
Dan had to hand it to her, she’d said she wasn’t riding the bike and she’d stuck to her guns. Blisters and all.
It stood to reason that when word spread of her raising money to win herself a spot in the scramble, there had been a stampede of cowboys lining up to help her along. The chance to support a worthy cause and see Ashby pitted against a pig had been too good to pass up for some people.
Not that she’d let Dan help her out. Oh, no, she’d refused to sell him a ticket.
Yup, she was still miffed at him.
Watching her now, he decided she looked stiff and nervous. He had to admit, though, that she looked nice, as usual. But his attention fixed on her luminous eyes, wide with trepidation.
His gut twisted. Those eyes should be wide with anticipation. He wanted her to relax and have a good time.
Not that she’d believe him.
Her back was as rigid as a ruler as she waited for the signal to enter the arena. Much like it had been every time she’d seen him over the past month.
Sunday school had been awkward, but he’d refrained from teasing her, not wanting to add to her dilemma. The one she had no idea she had. He’d tried to get the guys to stop with the “Ashed” nonsense, but his efforts had only drawn more attention to her plight. He had hopes for her tonight.
Tonight she might redeem herself. Tonight Miss Prim might just change her situation.
He hoped so. He didn’t like feeling guilty.
Dan knew Roy Don Jenkins’s voice was going to crack to life over the loudspeaker any minute now to introduce the women so he hurried to wish the ladies good luck before going back up to claim a seat in the stands. There were ten women in the group. Some were married; some were single; all had worked hard selling tickets to get into this arena. He admired the hard work they’d put into raising money that would help support the women’s shelter. If a gal was ever curious about the way to his heart, that was it—donating time or money to women in need.
Not that he’d ever tell someone that bit of info; there were some things too private to talk about. Still, he’d come to wish them luck, and in doing so, silently thank them for their hard work and good hearts. “Ladies,” he said, drawing their attention. “I just wanted to wish each and every one of you luck out there. Stay safe.”
“Thanks, Dan,” Lacy shouted over a sudden squawk of the amplifier.
Ashby jumped at the sound and her gaze connected with Dan’s. Maybe she’d learn a thing or two from tonight. Even so, he hoped she wouldn’t get hurt. As he went to find a seat in the stands, he sent up a prayer that they’d all be safe. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that he’d sort of goaded her into this, and if she did get hurt, he’d be responsible. That was one burden he didn’t care to take on.
She’d lost her mind. That was the first thought that hit Ashby as she and the others jogged out into the arena. The crowd roared with laughter. In front of her, Lacy and Sheri mugged and waved at the crowd, while she stumbled right into a wet spot and nearly went down.
Sheri laughed. “What are you trying to do—steal the show?”
Relieved to still be standing, Ashby glared at her. “You can have the show. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Sure you do,” Lacy said.
Easy for her to say. Ashby wiped her damp palms on her jeans. The girl her mother raised wouldn’t dare be caught dead in an arena, sweaty and hot, chasing after a greased pig! For an instant, all lingering animosity toward her upbringing disappeared as regret over her newfound rebellious streak assailed her.
Stop it.
Twenty feet away, the little animal squealed from behind the gate where they were holding him.
Ashby was about to tango with a pig.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she reminded herself that standing here in the arena was going to help not only the shelter, but also her image around town.
She glanced at Lacy, who was hunkered down like a linebacker ready for the tackle.
The pig squealed again, sounding like wet brakes on an overloaded bus! Ashby shivered. Who was she kidding? She was way out of her element!
Nothing to do but follow people who looked like they knew what they were doing. Mimicking Lacy, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her elbows bent, hands out. She just didn’t have the personality to pull this off. Feeling foolish and out of place, she straightened and stood stiffly.
She was hopeless.
Roy Don called over the loudspeaker for the gate to open, and she almost jumped out of her skin when the pig shot into the arena in a frenzied panic.
And no wonder! Nine women reacted at once, squealing and laughing as they ran at poor Piggy en masse. This way and that the poor animal raced. When it suddenly froze, there was an instant pileup as everyone dived. Everyone, that is, but Ashby. She hadn’t moved.
Nope. She was still standing exactly where she’d started. Maybe her slow reaction had saved her. Someone in that pileup had surely captured the pig.
Her dismay was huge when the slick pig squirted from the pile like a bar of soap in wet hands—just popped right out of there and…and headed straight for her!
Surely the charging pig could see that she was no threat. She was still frozen to the spot! Surely it understood that all it had to do was a bit of sidestepping and it would be home free. That the safety zone loomed only paces away.
But no, he couldn’t know that. He was a pig. One with a vendetta, and who had decided to make like a bowling ball. After all, it had just taken down the nine other ladies, so why not Ashby?
Someone, somewhere, yelled for her to grab it.
Do what?
Grab it, her mind ordered.
Before she could analyze what she was doing, Ashby closed her eyes and dived.
That’s right, she dived.
Straight for the forty pounds of squealing animal coming at her like greased lightning. She wasn’t sure what astonished her the most, the fact that she voluntarily threw herself into the muck…
Or that she caught the pig!
She thought she heard the grandstands go wild, but the pig was screeching in her ear and kicking the wind out of her at the same time. One minute she had it, the next, Ashby was lying flat on her back as the slimy ball of lard used her as a launching pad. From her prone position, Ashby watched it shoot across the white line that had been drawn down the center of the arena. Pig: 1, Humans: 0.
Groaning, Ashby spat dirt and pushed herself up, grease and dirt embedded in her clothing. The slimy mixture of grime and muck had also worked its way into her hair and across the left side of her face—which had been plastered to the side of the small beast.
Molly Jacobs, who was covering the fund-raiser for her national newspaper column, suddenly jumped in front of her and snapped off a round of shots. Blinded by the rapid-fire flashes, Ashby blinked. What a mug shot that was going to be!
But it was over. That was all she could think as she stumbled toward the other women in the center of the arena.
“Way to go, Ashby.” Lacy laughed. “You almost had him!”
Ashby thought it was the other way around. That pig had outwitted ten women. It was some pig.
Despite getting duped, the group clasped hands and lifted them up in triumph. To her dismay, they all seemed to have had a great time.
Ashby stank. They all did, but she was pretty sure she was the worst. She managed a semblance of a smile for the clapping audience, and reminded herself why she’d done this—this horrid, horrid thing. Perhaps it had not been in vain—it could even mark a turning point in her love life.
All she knew was that if this hadn’t changed her image, nothing would.
Dan snaked through the crowd toward where the ladies were exiting the arena. That had been the funniest thing he’d seen in years. Watching nine ladies pile up on the piglet like a football team after a pigskin had been pretty entertaining. But when that squealing animal popped out of the pileup and headed for Ash, she’d looked like a little girl confronting the monster beneath her bed. Her eyes had grown to the size of plates and she’d gone as white as the pristine wedding dress hanging in her store window.
